


Cicatrix

by marginalia



Category: The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-07
Updated: 2003-12-07
Packaged: 2018-10-07 14:07:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10362162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginalia/pseuds/marginalia





	

Billy looks smaller here (folded in on himself), and Elijah wonders if it's a function of his house or the town or the distance from Dom. He doesn't want to think about that, though, that Dom was the thing tying them together.

The grey sky crashes down around Elijah and he cuts himself on the shards. The blood is fairy-tale red (forbidden) against his skin. He catches a splinter in his hand, tightens the fist, and watches the droplets fall and soak into the ground. He holds his hand up, a salute to the clouds pressing in, a sacrifice.

He dreams a Billy who would notice, a Billy who would trace the scar feather-light, who would kiss him slowly, reverently, everywhere but on his mouth (because even in his dreams Dom comes between them), gasping and needing, a Billy who would stroke him fast and sure, then trace the side of Elijah's face, where Elijah would turn his head, kiss Billy's palm, tasting himself and Billy's scar.

::

Billy's scarred, too. He cut himself on Dom (sharp) words biting and slicing Billy who could do better, and we're bad for each other you know and Billy shut down because that's what he does, shut out the noise, shutters behind his eyes. I have to go he said. I have to go so I don't hurt anyone (too late).

He read once about amputees, who feel pain where their limbs used to be (phantom), and when he lets himself think about it - which is rare - he wonders if it's a little like when he wakes up tasting Dom (tangy) in his mouth and feeling Dom under him, hard into the mattress. Then he remembers why everything is cold.

::

Elijah dreams Billy, but walking with him, history (personal) hovers around them, they see only Dom. Slipping around corners, disappearing in crowds; the days pass under their feet and Dom drifts further away (if he was ever there to start with), is lost to them.

In the dark they touch hesitantly, gentle kisses, faltering hands growing more daring.

Elijah (healing) is smooth under him, not a panacea, but a measured step towards restoration.


End file.
